


First Storm

by esteefee



Series: Fair Trade [12]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Earth, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-02
Updated: 2011-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For squidgie's <a href="http://squidgiepdx.livejournal.com/53353.html">SGA Fall Meme</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squidgie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgie/gifts).



> [Podfic read by Wihluta](http://www.squidge.org/~esteefee/first_xt3.mp3).

The first of the Fall storms hits, rain splattering the windows of the café with an almost comforting sound, an accompaniment to the clicking of Rodney's keyboard where he sits in his usual spot by the window next to John. Ahs has been whipping up his famous October Froth Chai Lattes that he categorically refuses to give John the recipe for—the first time Rodney has one he comes close to bussing Ahs on the cheek; John would be jealous except he's been tempted himself on occasion, when he's come in from the wet, his hands stiff and cold from riding in the rain.

"How long is this thing going to last, you think," Rodney grumbles, waving at the storm as if it were an offense, an attack on his person conjured by the capricious weather gods in their ongoing efforts to make Rodney's life a complete misery. Since he's new to San Francisco, Rodney has already bemoaned the fog, the mist, the cold wind that sweeps in during summer and forces him to wear fleece when he should, he claims, by all rights be wearing shorts and a T-shirt. John is looking forward to the Indian Summer that will hit in December, when Rodney will probably complain of overheating.

John nudges Rodney's latte a little closer to him and sneaks a hand onto his thigh. "Hey, at least it's not snowing."

"I wouldn't put it past this absurd town," Rodney says, and John laughs and steals a kiss, licking the taste of cloves and cinnamon and cardamom and espresso and he doesn't know what else from Rodney's cranky lips until Rodney kisses him back, grudging and sweet.

And against the window, the rain continues its gentle rhythm, reminding John all is well in his small corner of the world, quiet and safe.

 

_End._


End file.
